


Bedtime Stories

by Feriku



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Fluff, Jesper reading to Wylan, M/M, Pre-Crooked Kingdom, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Wylan's secret hasn't been revealed yet, light romance since it's pre-Crooked Kingdom, set vaguely in and around Six of Crows, slight angst, wesper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-07 19:50:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12848319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feriku/pseuds/Feriku
Summary: When Wylan and Jesper are forced to share a room, Wylan discovers an unknown love for bedtime stories.





	1. Sleeping Arrangements

Close conditions and a lack of privacy were just facts of life, especially while on the road. Jesper was used to that. The same couldn’t be said for Wylan, who hadn’t stopped looking panicked from the moment he learned the inn room they’d be sharing only had one bed.

“You’re lucky we have a bed to share,” Jesper said. “We could be sleeping on the floor in bedrolls.” He winked. “We could be _sharing_ a bedroll.”

Wylan muttered something incoherent and continued pacing.

Jesper sighed. He loved teasing Wylan. He loved making him blush. But he hated seeing the boy prowl around the tiny room like a caged animal. He couldn’t tell if Wylan actually worried he might take advantage of him, or if the innocent merchling was just so accustomed to privacy that he couldn’t cope.

Part of Jesper’s mind argued that he should chivalrously offer to sleep on the floor in respect for the merchling’s delicate sensibilities. His legs and back, however, argued that there was no logical reason to refuse a soft bed, and _Wylan_ should sleep on the floor if he had a problem with sharing.

Then again, if he played his cards right, maybe he could get Wylan to calm down. He stretched out his arms with an exaggerated yawn. “We have a long day ahead of us. We should get some sleep.”

“I’m… not tired yet.”

“Come on, merchling, you’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep pacing.”

Wylan stopped. “I wasn’t pacing.”

“Then relax, and let’s go to sleep. Unless…” Jesper grinned and wiggled his fingers. “Does the rich merchling need a massage before bed?”

As he’d hoped, Wylan’s face turned red. “ _No._ ”

For one glorious moment, Jesper reveled in the delight of making him blush, and in the next moment remembered he was supposed to calm him down, not embarrass him further. No more innuendoes. None.

“I’m just too restless to sleep right now.”

Jesper couldn’t help himself. “What, you want to have a little fun first to blow off steam?”

Saints, did he have to sabotage his own plan so quickly?

To his vast relief, Wylan didn’t flee the room. Instead, he frowned. “Fun? What sort of fun?”

“Please, merchling, don’t ask things like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because when you sound that innocent, I don’t know if I should fantasize about you or tuck you in and tell you a bedtime story. That’s a good way to drive a guy crazy.”

Wylan blushed, but didn’t stop frowning. “A bedtime story?”

“I’m saying you sounded as innocent as a little kid.”

“But… what do you mean by a bedtime story?”

It was Jesper’s turn to frown. “Didn’t anyone ever read fairy tales to you before you went to sleep?” Even if they didn’t do it themselves, surely rich merchants would hire a nanny to tell their son bedtime stories.

Wylan hesitated. “I think… maybe my mother might have told me stories when she was alive… but I don’t remember them.” He looked down at the floor.

The sad expression on the merchling’s face was even harder to bear than his earlier nervousness. Time to move away from the topic as fast as possible.

“It’s all right.” Jesper shrugged. “But we _do_ have a long day tomorrow, so we should—”

“Do you know any?”

He stopped. “What?”

“The fairy tales you mentioned. Do you remember them?”

“Sure, sort of.” Jesper grinned. “Why? Don’t tell me you want a bedtime story after all.”

Wylan’s cheeks reddened, and he turned away. “N-No, of course not.”

Saints, no matter how he approached Wylan tonight, he got it wrong. Jesper stepped closer. “Hey, if you do, that’s no problem. You said you weren’t tired yet, right? Maybe a story is just what you need to unwind.”

Wylan met his gaze and offered a hesitant smile. “Okay.” He climbed into the bed and crawled under the covers.

Any lingering embarrassment or nervousness he felt was clearly overshadowed by his curiosity about bedtime stories. He didn’t even blush as Jesper settled in alongside him.

Jesper took a deep breath. He needed to think of a good fairy tale. While he remembered his favorites fairly well, there was a big difference between knowing the general plot and being able to tell it like a storyteller would.

“Okay,” he said, once he picked one, “this is the tale of something that happened long ago…” He felt a little silly, but if Wylan wasn’t embarrassed by hearing a bedtime story, then Jesper wouldn’t let himself be embarrassed either. He’d tell it just the way it had been told to him, dramatic pauses and all.

As he told the story, he started to get into it. Storytelling was kind of fun—and his rapt audience certainly helped.

Near the end, he wondered if he’d made a mistake.

“Sorry,” he said when he finished. “I forgot how dark that one got. I should have picked something happier.”

Wylan blinked at him. “I thought it was happy. The main character finally escaped from the father who didn’t value her.”

That was a _very_ specific aspect of the ending to concentrate on, but Jesper didn’t question him. It wasn’t his business to pry into why the merchling ran away from home.

“Do you want to hear another?” he asked instead.

“Yes, please.”

So Jesper told another fairy tale, one with a happier ending. By the time he was done, Wylan’s eyes had begun to flutter shut.

“I liked that one even more,” he said sleepily. “It shows that sometimes the people who are supposed to care for you are no good… and the people who actually do care about you are ones you’re told are dangerous.”

“Like Zemeni sharpshooters?”

“Mmhmm.” Wylan’s eyes snapped open. “Wait, what? No! That’s not what I meant!”

Jesper chuckled. “Get some sleep, merchling, before you make any more embarrassing confessions.”

Wylan glared at him, but pulled up the covers and rolled over.

Jesper lay down with his back to the other boy, slightly perplexed despite his satisfaction. He would have bet good money against getting Wylan Van Eck to relax like _that_. “I guess a bedtime story was the correct answer after all.”

Enough time passed that he thought Wylan must have fallen asleep, but then an annoyed reply came from behind him. “That doesn’t mean you should think of me as a little kid.”

“ _Oh_?” Jesper grinned. “In that case, I’ll be sure to fantasize about you all night long.”

He didn’t have to turn around to know Wylan was blushing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why am I writing cute fluff instead of my sequel?? Because I was thinking about how the stories in "The Language of Thorns" are stories our characters might have heard growing up, and I started wondering if Wylan would have heard any, and then this happened.
> 
> It will be a quick one, three short chapters.


	2. An Ill-Chosen Gift

The next night, Wylan lay awake and stared at the ceiling. Their current arrangement gave them plenty of space, so no one had to share a room. He thought he’d be grateful.

Sleeping always brought with it restlessness and worries. Worries about all sorts of things—the job, the criminals he’d fallen in with, his father, everything. He’d long since gotten used to those worries and accepted that a restful night was simply a thing of the past.

Until he was forced to share a room and slept soundly all night.

It was the stories, of course. Not the sharpshooter who told them. The novelty of being told a bedtime story made him feel safe and secure. It had nothing to do with Jesper’s soothing voice and how, despite all his teasing, he was really a very kind person. Nothing at all.

Wylan tiptoed to the room where Jesper was sleeping. Then he hesitated.

This was stupid. After how reluctant he’d been to share a room at all, it was absurd to give up his privacy when he didn’t have to.

On the other hand, it wasn’t like anything would _happen_. Jesper was obviously interested in Kaz, and if that was his type, Wylan didn’t stand a chance. Not that he wanted a chance! He didn’t. Especially not with someone who considered him as innocent as a little kid.

_You won’t make him think of you as any more mature if you keep asking for bedtime stories_ , whispered a nasty part of his mind that sounded suspiciously similar to his father’s voice.

Wylan knocked on Jesper’s door anyway.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.” He swallowed. “Wylan.”

“Come on in. It’s unlocked.”

He took a deep breath and entered the room. Jesper was in bed, which made Wylan blush for no good reason at all.

“What’s up?” Jesper asked.

“You should lock your door at night.”

“Merchling, did you really wake me up just to lecture me on security?”

“Well, no, but…”

“Go on, lock the door if it makes you happier.”

Wylan locked the door and tried to think of a casual way to make his request.

When he turned around, Jesper had a huge smirk on his face. “Couldn’t get enough the other night? Dying to jump into bed with me again?”

“Oh, stop,” Wylan said, his cheeks on fire. “It’s not like you’d be interested even if I was.”

“Wait, what—”

“I was just wondering if you had any more stories!”

Jesper stared at him.

It really was a stupid idea. “Never mind.” He turned toward the door again.

“Aw, don’t be like that, merchling.”

Wylan glanced back.

Jesper patted the empty space in the bed next to him. “Come here, I’ll tell you another story.”

The memory of how well he slept the previous night squashed his embarrassment, so Wylan hurried over and got into bed beside Jesper. Then he closed his eyes to enjoy the story and let Jesper’s comforting voice wash over him.

He was asleep before it even ended.

#

Jesper had expected his storytelling to be a one-time event, a fond memory he could use to tease Wylan in the future.

That was clearly not the case.

Wylan returned the next night, and the next. A curious question from Nina one morning about whether or not the merchling was sharing Jesper’s bed made Wylan blush scarlet and stammer out an explanation, but he still showed up that evening.

Now, it was quite nice to spend each night with someone warm and cuddly—and when Wylan got sleepy enough to forget his embarrassment, he became very cuddly indeed, with a habit of snuggling close for the final lines of the story—but it was also puzzling. For some reason, these simple stories were something Wylan genuinely _craved._

And that gave Jesper an idea.

The merchling’s offhand comment about how he’d never be interested stung a little and made Jesper wonder if his newfound ease with sleeping together was because Wylan no longer registered him in any sexual way at all. That was a bit irritating, and flirting obviously wasn’t enough to fix it.

A gift, on the other hand, might be just the thing to show that Wylan was… if not necessarily _special_ to him, at least someone he enjoyed being around.

So once Jesper had some time to himself and enough kruge to accomplish his task, he slipped away and searched the market until he found the gift he was looking for. That night, he waited for Wylan to show up and hoped the Saints were on his side for once.

The familiar knock came. “It’s me.”

Jesper jumped up and opened the door to let Wylan in. “I got something for you today.”

“For me?”

“I don’t know when your birthday is… and since we all might die, I didn’t think it was a good idea to wait… so here.” Jesper held out his gift, a beautiful hand-bound volume of fairy tales.

Wylan recoiled from the book like it was a poisonous snake.

That was not the reaction Jesper expected. At all.

“It’s… a present.” Was a gift from him so horrible? Did Wylan think he’d demand payment? Jesper cleared his throat and tried not to sound hurt. “I mean… you like my stories so much… I just thought you might… want a copy…”

“O-Oh, thank you.” Wylan finally reached out and accepted the book. “It’s… It’s very nice. Thank you.”

Saints, he didn’t even handle explosives that gingerly. Despite his polite thank you, he clearly _hated_ the gift. This was a disaster.

Jesper forced a laugh. “Is there some merch gift-giving custom I don’t know about, and I just made a fool of myself?”

“No…” Wylan looked down at the floor. “I appreciate it, but… what I really like is how you tell the stories.”

“Oh?” Jesper let out a sigh of relief. Maybe he hadn’t messed up too badly. He grinned. “So you’ve been coming for my company after all!”

The other boy blushed. “You have a good storytelling voice.”

He could still salvage this night. “How about I read you something from your new book then?”

“Sure…”

Jesper got into bed and waited for the atmosphere between them to relax, like it usually did. After that first awkward night, Wylan had been able to easily settle down without any trouble. But this time, he seemed nervous and uptight.

Something was wrong. Jesper opened the book to the first page and started reading, but he couldn’t ignore the distinct lack of happiness beside him. He glanced over. Wylan appeared tense, his eyes squeezed shut.

“You okay, merchling?” He reached out and touched Wylan’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Wylan stiffened and opened his eyes. “Sorry, I… I guess I’m not in the mood tonight. I should go get some sleep.”

“Okay…”

“Sorry.”

Jesper held out the book. “Um…”

“Thank you.” Wylan took it, but he looked sad.

_What did I do wrong?_ Jesper wanted to ask, but instead he said, “Good night, merchling.”

It broke his heart to watch Wylan walk out of the room.

# 

Wylan kept the book safe at all times. He carried it like a precious possession whenever he could and hid it away when he had to leave it behind. Jesper had bought it to make him happy, with no knowledge of the anxiety it would cause, and that made it all the harder to face him.

He _loved_ Jesper’s bedtime stories, and he hated to give them up… but if Jesper wanted to read him stories from the book, Wylan had to memorize them in case Jesper ever asked him about one. Yet his memorization attempt made Jesper suspicious, so he had no choice but to pretend he was no longer interested.

Sometimes Wylan got out the book and ran his fingers across the binding, wondering what emotion had prompted Jesper to buy him something so beautiful—and how those feelings would change if he learned Wylan couldn’t read.


	3. A Lifetime of Stories

From then on, things slowly returned to normal between them, but the bedtime stories were a thing of the past. Jesper tried to forget those warm nights, but the question remained in the back of his mind nevertheless: where had he gone wrong?

When he finally got his answer, he hated himself for buying a gift that made Wylan uncomfortable, but most of all he hated Jan Van Eck.

It took Jesper three days to work up the nerve to visit Wylan’s room in the Barrel. Van Eck’s list of attempted solutions ran through his mind, over and over. _I have hired the best tutors from every corner of the world. I’ve tried specialists, tonics, beatings, hypnotism. But he refused to be taught._

Jesper had teased the merchling for his sheltered life plenty of times, but even though he’d grown up in comfort, it seemed Wylan had gone through his own sort of hell.

He knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” Wylan asked, a slight quaver in his voice.

“Jesper.”

For a moment, he worried he might be refused, but a lock clicked and the door opened. Wylan stepped back. “Come in.”

It was so strange to see Kuwei’s face and hear Wylan’s voice come out of it. Jesper followed him inside and closed the door. He really did miss the merchling’s stupid face. It was a silly thing to think about, but it was on his mind a lot these days. Wylan in general was on his mind too much lately.

For a moment, they stood in silence and looked at each other.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the plan,” Wylan said.

“It’s okay. I’m not upset.” Jesper hesitated. “I’m sorry, too.”

“About what happened? Don’t be. Kaz is the only one who really blames you.”

Like he needed a reminder. Jesper shook his head. “Not that.” He was sorry he gave Wylan a present that must have felt like a kick in the stomach. “I’m sorry you have a scumbag for a father.”

Wylan managed a weak laugh, but didn’t meet his gaze.

_…specialists, tonics, beatings, hypnotism…_

Jesper stepped closer. “Don’t believe a word he says about you. Who cares if you can’t read? I sure don’t. You’re brilliant, and kind, and all around pretty incredible.”

The other boy looked away. “Come on, Jes… it’s kind of weird to hear you being so serious.”

“Oh, so you like it better when I tease?” Jesper smirked. “How much teasing did you want me to do, merchling? I did come here hoping to find my way into your bed again, after all.”

Wylan’s face turned crimson.

“Ah!” Jesper clapped his hands together. “That still works, good!”

“ _What_ still works?”

“Your blush. I thought maybe with a different face, you wouldn’t blush as much.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“But you haven’t thrown me out yet. I must be doing something right.”

Wylan rolled his eyes and folded his arms. “And what did you mean _again_?”

“I remember a time not too long ago when we slept together almost every night.”

“Don’t say it like that!” he said, his face redder still.

Jesper grinned. “Did we or did we not sleep in the same bed for several nights in a row?”

“We did, but we didn’t do anything.”

“Details, details. You were still jumping into bed with me.”

“I came for your stories,” Wylan said with an adorable pout. “Not for you.”

“Keep telling yourself that, merchling… but you snuggled pretty close for someone only there for the stories.”

“I was _cold._ ”

Jesper put his hand over his heart in mock insult. “I see how it is, you only came to me for my stories and body heat!”

Wylan rolled his eyes. “No, of course it wasn’t just that…”

“Oho, so you _did_ enjoy all that exclusive Jesper time!”

“I enjoyed your voice,” he said, his blush deepening by the minute, “your presence. Not… you know.”

“Do you ever miss those nights?” Jesper asked softly, serious again.

For a long moment, Wylan didn’t respond, and he worried he’d said the wrong thing. Then the other boy walked to a small trunk on the floor by his bed, opened it, and pulled out a familiar book.

“You still have it?” Jesper couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice. “I’d have bet all my money on that book becoming kindling the day after I gave it to you.”

“I couldn’t do that. It was a gift.” Wylan sat on the edge of his bed and hugged the book against his chest. “You didn’t know. You didn’t mean to hurt me.”

Jesper slowly approached the bed and sat next to him. “I really thought it was something you’d enjoy. I wanted to make you happy.”

“I know.”

“I still do.”

Wylan looked at him for a minute without saying anything and then held the book out with a shy smile. “Then… would you read a story to me after all?”

“On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You just relax and enjoy it. No repeats of what happened last time.”

Wylan grinned and scrambled under the covers. “Deal.”

Jesper settled in alongside him and opened the book, but he couldn’t resist. “Better hope no one was walking by just now. Imagine what they’d think if they heard me in your bedroom telling you to _relax and enjoy it_?”

“Jesper?”

“Yes?”

“Just read the story.”

The faint blush on Wylan’s cheeks was delightful, but the familiar look of peace and contentment after a few minutes was even better. When Jesper finished the first story, Wylan’s eyes were still half-open, so he started the next. As he neared the end of the second, Wylan shifted closer and nestled against him, eyes shut.

Jesper closed the book and set it down. Then he reached out to gently stroke Wylan’s cheek. “Don’t worry, merchling, we’ll never run out of stories. I’ll read to you before bed every night for the rest of your life, if you want me to.”

What was he babbling about? They were as different as could be, a sharpshooter from the Barrel and a rich merchant’s son. This wasn’t a fairy tale, where they’d overcome all boundaries and live happily ever after. The very idea was impossible.

But Wylan mumbled, “I’ll hold you to that” and burrowed deeper into the blankets.

Jesper stared at him, then chuckled quietly. Wylan’s half-asleep comments were always priceless, but Jesper wouldn’t use this one to tease him with. No, this one he’d keep close to his heart.

Because maybe it wasn’t so impossible after all.


End file.
